On Feb. 23, 2007, Roland Voss, aka Lemongrass, released the album Filmotheque, which I’m reveling in after discovering it much later.
If there’s ever been music that I have always held near, always been able to fall back on or return to with full awareness that it is exactly what I want to listen to, and will always feel like listening to, it’s Lemongrass. Over the years, I’ve collected random tracks from the albums Ikebana and Garden Vols. 1 and 2 — just a smattering — and each listening seemed always such a new sound, a fantastic way to travel inside my own mind, the perfect soundtrack to a new world created that very instant just to coincide with the moment’s soundtrack.
Yes, I’ve been listening to something like twelve tracks, over and over again, for the past five years. I don’t know why it is only now that I’m taking the initiative to seek out and obtain each Lemongrass release, but here I am, going through Filmotheque‘s track listing, marveling at each new dimension smoothly transferred into the consciousness via waveform. It’s hard to progress through the album, as I am stuck repeating the first few tracks, listening intently, striving to hear each and every millisecond of noise in every way possible, slowly but surely making my way through this album, which is refreshingly cool, but somehow warm as well.
There’s loads of amazing music in the Lemongrass catalog — fantastic amounts of it and I know that my clumsy archive of favorite albums and tracks is minuscule compared to that tremendous universe of good sound. I am fully aware that there are wonderful things I won’t ever experience, whether from lack of time on this plane of existence, lack of ability, or just sheer impossibility. But hey, there’s this really good music playing, and I’m content with that.
I don’t know what I am here to do, I don’t know where I’ll be in 20 years, but when I get there, I’d like Filmotheque to be playing.
Lemongrass Music: www.lemongrassmusic.de